C5 The Whims of Fate

Months passed.

Ethan lay in the hospital bed, his body slowly healing. The electricity had left him with permanent scars—his skin was dark, almost black, from the burns, and he’d lost all his hair: his head, his eyebrows, his eyelashes. He looked like a different man—a stranger. But he didn’t care. Because he was alive. And he was stronger.

Much stronger.

The electricity had awakened the Qigong his foster father had taught him as a child—ancient Chinese breathing techniques, a form of internal energy. He could feel the energy flowing through his body, warm and powerful, healing his wounds, making him faster, stronger, more alert. His mind was sharper than ever, his reflexes lightning fast, his strength almost superhuman. The doctors called it a "medical miracle." Ethan called it fate.

When he was finally released from the hospital, Icy helped him get ready. She drew on eyebrows for him with a makeup pencil, gave him a pair of black sunglasses, and bought him a sleek black suit. He stared at himself in the mirror, and for the first time since the electrocution, he smiled.

He looked like a hitman—a tall, dark, dangerous hitman. And he liked it.

He left the hospital, stepping out into the New York sunlight. The air smelled of fresh coffee and car exhaust, the streets were filled with people, and for the first time in his life, Ethan felt truly free. He was no longer the rich kid who’d lost everything. He was no longer the suicidal man who’d jumped off a skyscraper. He was someone new. Someone better. Someone dangerous.

He decided to make a deal with the NYPD. He knew the Dragon Tiger Gang, the Russian Mafia, and the Yamaguchi-gumi would come for him. He knew he couldn’t fight them alone. And he knew the NYPD needed him—they needed him as bait, to lure the gangs out of hiding. It was a risky deal, a dangerous deal, but it was the only deal.

He walked into the NYPD Homicide Division, asking to see Director Dean. The receptionist stared at him, scared by his dark skin and black sunglasses, but she led him to Dean’s office anyway.

Director Dean stared at him, shocked. "Ethan. You’re alive. And you look different."

"I made a deal with the devil," Ethan said, sitting down. "I’ll be your bait. I’ll lure the gangs out of hiding. But you have to protect me. And you have to drop all charges against me. No more involuntary manslaughter, no more assault, nothing. And I want Dana to be my bodyguard. My personal secretary. She stays with me, 24/7."

Director Dean smiled, a cold, calculating smile. "You drive a hard bargain. But fine. Deal. Dana’s your bodyguard. We’ll protect you. And all charges are dropped. But if you try to run, if you try to kill yourself again, I’ll hunt you down. And I’ll put you in Sing Sing for the rest of your life."

Ethan nodded. "Deal."

Dana was assigned to him the next day, and she moved into his suite at the Waldorf Astoria. She was a trained martial artist—black belt in karate, sixth degree—and she was the best bodyguard the NYPD had to offer. Ethan liked her. She was smart, strong, beautiful, and she didn’t take any of his crap.

For the first time in his life, Ethan felt like he had a partner. A friend. Maybe even something more.

Eric was assigned to lead the NYPD protection detail—dozens of cops, hidden in the hotel, on the streets, in Ethan’s office. They watched him day and night, protecting him from the gangs, from the danger. Ethan didn’t mind. He knew they were there to protect him, but he also knew they were there to watch him. To make sure he kept his end of the deal.

One afternoon, Ethan and Eric were walking back to the Waldorf from his office in Midtown. A group of street vendors surrounded them, all shouting in broken English.

"Hey black man! Change dollars! Euro, yen, pound! Good rate!"

"Hey man, you from South Africa? Your English is perfect!"

"Change money with me! Best rate in New York!"

Ethan sighed, pushing through the crowd. "Leave me alone."

The vendors shouted insults after him, calling him a rude black man, a rich snob. Ethan didn’t care. He was used to it now. His dark skin, his black sunglasses, his sleek black suit—they made him stand out. They made him a target. But they also made him invisible. No one saw the real Ethan anymore. No one saw the broken kid who’d lost everything. They saw a dangerous man. A man not to be messed with.

And that’s exactly what he wanted.

Ethan threw himself into work and training. He worked 12 hours a day, rebuilding Ethan Enterprises, signing deals, making money. And he trained 2 hours a day, with Dana by his side. She taught him karate, kickboxing, self-defense. He taught her Qigong, the ancient breathing techniques that had made him stronger. Together, they were a team. A dangerous team.

One morning, Dana dragged him to the hotel gym, a small smile on her face. "You need to train harder. The gangs are coming, Ethan. They’re going to hit you hard. You need to be ready. You can’t just rely on your Qigong. You need to fight."

Ethan nodded, grabbing a punching bag. "I’m ready. Teach me."

Dana stood beside him, correcting his stance. "Breathe from your diaphragm. Focus your energy. Punch with your whole body, not just your arm. One punch, one kill."

Ethan took a deep breath, focusing on the Qigong energy flowing through his body. He thought about all the pain, all the loss, all the danger. He thought about the gangs, about Tiger, about Katya. He thought about living, about surviving, about winning.

He punched the bag.

A loud crack echoed through the gym. The punching bag—filled with heavy sand, reinforced with steel—burst open, sand pouring out onto the floor, covering Dana in a cloud of dust.

Ethan stared at his hand, shocked. He’d only punched it once. With one punch, he’d destroyed a steel-reinforced punching bag.

Dana stared at him, her mouth open in shock. "What the hell? How did you do that?"

Ethan smiled, a dangerous, confident smile. "I told you. The whims of fate."

Dana shook her head, laughing. "You’re impossible. But you’re going to be a good fighter. A great fighter."

Ethan’s phone rang, breaking the moment. He pulled it out of his pocket, seeing Mayor Mayo’s name on the screen.

"Ethan here."

"Ethan! I’ve got a big deal for you. A Japanese retail giant. They want to sign a $100 million deal with Ethan Enterprises. They’re at my office now. Come quick."

Ethan smiled. A Japanese deal. Perfect.

He hung up the phone, turning to Dana. "We’ve got a meeting. Mayor’s office. Japanese investors. $100 million deal."

Dana’s smile faded, her eyes turning serious. "Japanese investors. Be careful, Ethan. The Yamaguchi-gumi is Japanese. This could be a trap."

Ethan nodded, his expression hardening. He knew she was right. It could be a trap. It probably was a trap.

But he didn’t care.

He was ready.

He was alive.

And he was ready to fight.